Tuesday, April 12, 2016
From college coed to professor’s naughty bride…
It’s the 1950s. Never much interested in her studies, Margaret Atwater attends college hoping to graduate with an Mrs. degree instead of a bachelor’s. When she catches the eye of English Professor Henry Thurston, she’s thrilled to marry him, drop out of school, and begin a new life as a married woman and faculty wife. However, Henry is a kinky man who has much to teach his eager young bride—in, and out, of the bedroom. As Mrs. Henry Thurston, Margaret’s sexual education has just begun.
Newlywed Margaret brings her husband his lunch at his college office. But Henry expects more than lunch…
“What did you bring me for lunch?” He peered into the corridor and slammed the door.
“A meatloaf sandwich.”
He twisted the key in the lock and scooted around her to the window. “On white bread?”
“Good. I like white bread. It’s so nice and fluffy. Almost like eating cotton candy.” He turned the wand and plunged the room into dusk. Enough light remained to see the sexual gleam in his eyes.
An answering heat pooled in her core. Yes, some things had changed since her last visit to this room. She might have gotten a C in his class, but she’d aced marital relations. He’d taught her much over the summer, lessons she’d embraced with alacrity.
Henry plopped into his chair and beckoned.
“What if somebody comes?”
“They won’t. It’s only the second week. Students don’t have reason to meet with me yet.” He chuckled. “They’re still searching for their classes.”
“I don’t know.” Did respectable married women do things like this?
He leaned back and spread his legs. His erection tented his trousers. “Do I need to come and get you, Mrs. Thurston?”
She loved being called that. Liquid lust pooled, but she played coy. “Maybe—”
Henry sprang up, dragged her to his desk, and upended her over his lap. The chair arms prevented him from pulling her completely atop his knees, but he was strong enough to hold her half on, half off. She braced her hands on the floor. Skirts flew over her head. A playful swat landed on her bottom.
Thwack. Thwack. “Henreee…” she giggled. “Ow!” she cried as he brought his hand down harder. There’d been many spankings over the summer. Only one had been for punishment after she’d gone shopping and had run late and hadn’t called. The rest had been sexy ones. There was something thrilling about her husband enforcing his will—and her surrendering to it.
“I wish you didn’t put on so many undergarments,” he groused as he spanked.
“I only wear the usual.” Panties, girdle, slip. Petticoats for poufiness, if the dress needed it.
“Maybe I’ll institute an underwear ban.”
“I mean around the house.”
That wasn’t as bad, but still. What if she had to answer the door? A respectable woman was always coiffed, starched, and properly clad. To not wear undergarments would be like not wearing…stockings!
“Well, I’ll have to think about it,” he said.
She hoped he thought about it a long time. He flipped her off his lap into a heap between his legs, undid his trousers, and freed his cock from his shorts. Precum pearled on the smooth head.
Her brown feathered tilt hat had slipped from her head to her ear, despite being anchored with a pin. Henry threaded his fingers through her pageboy. The man was heck on a hairdo. Perhaps she should get one of those short, shaggy cuts like Italian actress Gina Lollobrigida had.
He exerted pressure to bring her face closer to his cock. “I used to think about you doing this when you were my student,” he said. “Suck me, Meggie.”
[Yum, says Emily!]
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USA Today bestselling author Cara Bristol has published more than twenty-five erotic romance titles, including contemporary and science fiction romance. No matter what the subgenre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently lives in Missouri with her husband. She has two grown stepkids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling.
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